Back to Us
by sleepyheadfan20
Summary: Abbie and Crane have problems in their marriage. Can they fix them?
1. Phone Call

Thank you for reading. Your feedback is welcome. :) And Crane is a butt.

* * *

Abbie should be home with her five-year-old daughter, Melody, and her husband, Ichabod Crane. Today's Friday. It's Pizza Night, and they watch Disney movies. She's at her desk, stooped over an FBI case file, a mug of cold coffee, and a stale croissant she might've ate for lunch or breakfast. She can't remember which; it's been a long day. It's nine, going on midnight. Her cell phone rings beside the other classified files she hasn't gotten to yet. She sighs, answers.

"We were expecting you by five this evening, Abbie. It appears as though your work commitments have come before your family yet again."

"Do not get fucking haughty with me, Ichabod." She stands and stares out her window at the tiny cars and the tiny people. "I'm not in the mood."

She told them she'd be home by five, and then she called them again and said six. And she rang them twice more at seven and eight.

"What is it that you expect me to say? I waited for you to come home. Most importantly, our daughter waited. I kept telling her, 'Mum will be here.' Yet, you didn't show up for us."

"The FBI isn't damned Scooby-Doo and the gang. We don't solve cases within twenty-four hours. I'm doing the best I can."

"You're not doing enough. Do you know how hurt she was? How much she cried for you?"

Abbie blinks her watery eyes, clears her throat. She doesn't like making Mel sad.

"Put her on the phone."

"No. Sophie is putting her to bed, ensuring she's cared for and loved."

He knows how to cut her, what twists her into black anger. Sophie is Mel's in-home nurse. She helps Crane treat Melody's severe asthma. She was diagnosed at age three. Abbie likes Sophie, but she doesn't like when Crane indirectly asks Sophie to fill her place.

"Stop doing that shit, Ichabod. She's not her mama. I am."

"Why is it so hard to tell?"

"Fuck you." She hangs up and cries.

They're only five years into their marriage, and she's watching it collapse already. These problems didn't exist when she dated him. Her schedule conflicted with his, yes. Abbie toted a gun and badge around Sleepy Hollow as an FBI agent; Crane presented 90-minute history lectures as a professor at the town's university. Even with her demanding job, she dedicated herself to their relationship.

She visited him during his lunch hour, picking up overpriced flatbread sandwiches and fresh teas from the local deli shop. Sometimes she didn't eat food at all and let him stuff her with orgasms. When she could, she sent texts that made him smile and blush. She enjoyed weekends with him, and they planned trips to London, warm islands, and amusement parks.

Abbie married Crane at a small church in front of the few family and friends they had. Some weeks later, she was promoted to an FBI director and gladly accepted the position. Crane supported her, encouraged her. He understood her job. Then she discovered she was pregnant. He supported her then, too, even taught classes fully online to take care of Mel when her job kept her late most nights and occasionally required her to travel. Crane sent her videos and photos of Mel and himself, skyped her. They were a happy family, determined to stay that way.

When their daughter had her first asthma attack, that's when their spats started. Abbie couldn't be there for them, and eventually, Crane resented her for it. She is at a crossroads, not sure how she'll ever find the route back to him or if she even wants to.

Before she can think too much about her marriage, she hears a knock, quickly wipes her face, and turns around. Ash, or Big Ash, as the team around here calls him, stands in her doorway. He's the assistant director, her eyes and ears. Gives her an altered perspective when solving cases. He's the one who brought her the croissant and coffee. He has the worst timing, often catching her pissed or sad. The first time it happened, he didn't speak. He closed the door, fixed her a glass of rum, and handed it to her, which is what he does now. He knows where her stash is because she's offered him a celebratory drink or two after a few rescue missions.

She sips. "Thank you."

"How is she?"

"Fine. Thank God." She pauses. "I just had another fight with Crane."

She never goes into too much detail. He knows bits, not everything. He nods and grips her empty hand; she rests her head on what's supposed to be his shoulder but is part of his arm. He's a tall, muscly man. Abbie lets her tears out, drinks. Ash stares out the window at the tiny cars and the tiny people with her.

* * *

Crane paces, shakes his head, mumbles. Abbie wasn't present. She wasn't there when Mel blackened and blued due to lack of oxygen, when he drove 70 in a 45 to hurry her to the ER, when he cried and shook in the freezing waiting room alone. He called and called. Sent texts, left voicemails. She didn't respond to any of them and arrived at the hospital hours later, worried and panicked. He was livid, told her as much. It didn't matter that she was on a critical missing person's case and in the field all day without her phone. He needed her. Their daughter could've died; Abbie wouldn't have known. Crane held that day against her and every other day she wasn't present.

Mel was in and out of the hospital for a couple of months. He watched Melody struggle for breath in ICU. He listened to her endless cry for her mum because she was afraid of the nurses and the beeping machines. Mel didn't have her mother to hold her hand and kiss her forehead. Crane didn't have his partner to fall apart in front of. By the time Abbie was there, Mel was either being checked out of the hospital or stabilized with the right dosage of medicine. She was too late.

"She's asleep now," Sophie says.

He stops pacing. "Thank you, Miss Foster."

"Another fight?"

"Unfortunately."

She pats his chest in sympathy, puts the kettle on.

"You could use some tea."

"You have my gratitude once more."

In the quiet and dim light, they sit with their hot mugs.


	2. Superwoman

Will post more soon. :) Crane's part is coming.

* * *

After her drink, Abbie reorganizes her desk; Ash escorts her to the mostly empty parking lot. They are the first ones here and the last ones to leave.

"Do you have any place to be?" she says, not wanting to faceoff with Crane so soon if she goes home.

"Going for coffee."

"The new spot?"

He nods. "I don't mind your company."

"Lead the way."

She trails him in her car.

* * *

She enjoys another glass of rum and delights in a spicy chicken and bacon croissant. The coffee shop is dim, lighthearted. A rainbow of people connect in this little hub. Two bright-haired lovebirds pass each other a mocha while reading a thick novel. A group of college kids play Jenga near a window, holding breath at each player's move. One man quickly types at his laptop and pulls faces while his headphones are on his head. Three black women, with long box braids, softly hum and harmonize to the smooth jazz song selected from the cornered jukebox. People sway to the music, either by themselves or with lovers. She likes how free from stress and pain they are and wishes she could be, too. Her eyes stick to them.

"You want to dance." Ash sips green tea out of a mug that's smaller than his large hands. It's a sight.

"Doesn't mean I should."

"Why is that?"

"Don't have a partner."

He sits his cup down, tugs her from her seat with a smirk. She doesn't mind smelling the tea on his breath or letting his arms bind her waist. She finds some place to put her hands. They are never this close. The most he does is hold her hand, but she likes it. Being held. Her and Crane are too fumed to hold each other nowadays. She misses it.

"Thanks for letting me tag along," she says.

"Anytime. How do you feel?"

She shrugs.

"That's not an answer."

"It's all I have."

"You normally go home. This is the first time you haven't. He really set you off."

"Stop analyzing me, Ash."

"These are only the facts."

"I'm not a damned suspect."

"Defensive."

"Ash."

"How do you feel?"

He's persistent in the interrogation room. She's seen it. There's no point in her harboring the truth. He'll get the answers.

She sighs. "Sad. Pissed. Hurt."

"At Crane?"

"At Crane."

He waits.

"Most days, I feel inadequate for him and Mel. Like a shitty wife and mother."

Crane expects her to be at the hospital all the time. Her schedule doesn't provide the flexibility his does. He stopped understanding that.

"You are as you are. I see you trying to be Superwoman. You protect this town and support your family as much as you can. I'm proud of you, Abigail. You are more than enough."

That's all she wants to hear from Crane, from the man who vowed to be there through pale sicknesses and lush health. He used to tell her he was proud of her, that she was doing such a great job being a mother, a wife, and saving the world. It all ceased when she couldn't be there for Mel. Crane wasn't being fair to her.

"Show me."

* * *

Superwoman makes smart choices. If Abbie was her, she wouldn't be here in Big Ash's bed, with her legs spread open, with a gaping mouth, and with fingers that wouldn't stop tangling in his long, black hair. She shouldn't be in this position.

His mouth shouldn't kiss her lips like that. He shouldn't feel so sturdy and sure in her like he knows her. She shouldn't scratch down his back and stick her nails in his skin the way she did. Nor should she squeeze her knees against his hips and curve her back. His tongue shouldn't lick and taste her clit like that. She shouldn't moan and wrap her legs around his shoulders. He shouldn't push her further into his mouth and suck her harder. And her lips definitely shouldn't call his name and her body shouldn't remember her undoings because of his doings. But he does and she does. And they do plenty more they shouldn't.

* * *

Abbie slips in her panties and jeans.

"It's raining," Ash says.

"I can't stay." She buttons her shirt, throws on her jacket.

He nods. "I understand."

He put on his pants and his t-shirt, finds his shoes under the bed, says, "Do you have an umbrella?"

"No." After she slides on her flats, she grabs her purse.

"You can take mine. I'll walk you outside."

They stand by her car; Ash holds the umbrella over their heads. She doesn't want this to be awkward.

"Thank you for tonight, for reminding me."

It's Crane's job to do this, to love her, to tell her she's sufficient for him. She used Ash, and he let her, didn't once refuse her. A small part of her feels guilty, that she's gone too far, but the rest of her carries scars near her breastbone. Lugging all that creates a wild riling in her that makes her want to hurt him for all the shit he says to her.

"You're a lovely woman, Abigail."

She kisses his cheek, thanks him again.

He opens her door for her. She gets in and drives off, feeling herself suit up in Superwoman's costume.


	3. Study

I'm sorry for not posting in a while. Trying to get this story straight. Your reviews are welcome. I've read them all. Thank you for your honesty. :) This story is a trip, I know. Please, hang in. Lol I promise I'll fix it.

* * *

"Do you want another cup?" She adds her mug to the piled dishes in the sink and turns on the water.

Crane stands beside her. "No, thank you."

She washes; he rinses and dries. It's a habit they've formed. A habit he wishes he had with Abbie if she was here.

"Melody is such a sweet girl."

"She is, isn't she?"

She nods. "Her asthma is much more controlled now. It's getting better. You just have to continue to watch her."

"Thank you for all of your assistance in assuring her health. It means more than you know."

She bumps his hip with hers, smiles. "It's my job."

He keeps his hip close to hers.

* * *

"I'm rather glad you enjoyed the Disney movie marathon," Crane says. "Melody loves these films, particularly _Princess and the Frog_ and _The Little Mermaid_."

In the living room, he folds blankets while Sophie re-shelves the DVDs. He and Melody normally have Disney night by themselves, but he decided to invite Sophie. It was nice to watch them gush over Princess Tiana and Princess Ariel. They sang the songs and repeated the words to the film. Sophie was as much of a fanatic as Melody. Crane wanted Melody to have that kind of bond with her mum.

"Me, too. I felt like a little girl again."

"I'm glad she has you."

She shrugs. "I'm just her nurse, who happens to love Disney. I'm sure Abbie wanted to be here."

"That is where you and I disagree. If she desired to be here, she would have."

"She's her mom. She called five or six times tonight. It seems to me she cares. And you're wrong for talking to her like that."

He sighs, folds the last blanket. They don't discuss Abbie much. Sophie defends her while he puffs air and sticks up his nose.

"Anyway, next movie night, we should watch _Hercules_. I have a thing for Greek myths, too."

He raises his eyebrows. "Do you, Miss Foster?"

"Yup. There are so many tales; it's ridiculous."

"I know of what you speak. My preference has always been the story of Oedipus. That is such a tragic account."

"It's pretty twisted."

"I suppose all Greek myths are."

"True."

"I have a small collection of some of them in my study. You can borrow a few if you would like," he says.

"That would be awesome."

* * *

They flip through pages, ask mind-boggling questions, and laugh until their stomachs tighten. They pretend to be gods and goddesses, wrapping folded blankets around their shoulders and waists. As Sophie reenacts a scene, Crane couldn't help but stare at her. She was _here_. As in she didn't miss Mel's award ceremonies or field trips with her homeschool group. If Mel needed assistance with homework, she was there. Sometimes, Mel confided in her, too. Told her secrets and dreams she wanted to tell Abbie. She was there for him. Comforting, making tea, calming his nerves and fears if Melody had an asthma attack.

"What?"

He should not do what he's about to do because he's married. Nevertheless, he gently takes the book from Sophie's hands and kisses her on the mouth. She doesn't stop him and unbuttons his shirt. He knows what he's asking. Her tongue slips in his mouth, giving him the answer. They play pretend.

* * *

Crane never believed he could be unfaithful to Abbie, despite their issues. He vowed to never disrespect her when they stood at the altar, blinded by a fairy-taled ever after. He didn't even believe he could think about another woman outside of her, even if the thought was innocent and harmless.

But tonight he proves himself wrong. He touches another woman in the places he only touched his wife. His palms squeeze her butt and his lips suck her nipples. Crane tastes her on his tongue. And she grips him closer to her as her eyes lift to the ceiling and clinch shut. Her legs tighten around his waist. They didn't mind the solid of the wooden desk. She muttered his name against his neck as if they've always been lovers. Like he was hers and she was his. Like she could do whatever she wanted with him. She had all of her ways.

* * *

As Crane put on his clothes, he thought of the proper words to say to Miss Sophie. All the words seemed wrong.

"This was a one-time thing." She barely looks at him. "Abbie will probably be here soon."

"It is midnight. I'm sure you have to get home. I do want to thank you for your entertainment this evening. My daughter truly enjoys your company. We both do. "

Her feet interest her more than his eyes.

"I wish you a pleasant night, Miss Sophie. I shall see you next week."

As they go to the front door, Melody comes downstairs, rubbing her eyes. Crane hopes she didn't hear them. He scoops her up.

"Are you alright, darling?"

"Bad dream. The Shadow Man may get me."

"He won't get you, sweet heart. He's make believe. Might I recall that Princess Tiana stopped him?" He kisses her cheek.

"Yes." She peeks at Miss Sophie, asks her, "Are you having a slumber party with me and daddy?"

She reddens.

"No, Miss Sophie helped me clean up in the kitchen and living room. She's has her own home to go to."

"Okay." She waves. "Bye, Miss Sophie."

She waves back. "If the Shadow Man comes in your dreams again, what should you do?"

"Take a shoe."

"And beat him black and blue," they chant together.

Crane laughs. "Let's get you back to bed, love. One moment, Miss Foster."

"I'll wait outside."

He puts Melody to bed.

Sophie is by her door. "You're good with her. She needs you. She needs Abbie, too. _You_ need Abbie."

He doesn't say anything because she is right.

"I'm not her. We both know that."

"Yes, we both know that." Crane opens her car door. He kisses her hand, bows. "Goodnight, Miss Foster."

"Goodnight."

She drives off. He goes inside to rearrange his study.


	4. Breakfast

Abbie unlocks the door. She's tired and plans to rest and spend time with Mel this weekend. It's 12:30am. She hopes she doesn't have a run-in with Crane, but she does. He's by the steps when she walks in. She doesn't speak to him and removes her jacket and shoes.

"Did you finish what you needed to at work?" he says.

She knows this tone. It's the same one he used earlier, when he was ready to confront her.

"We aren't doing this, Crane. It's late."

He blocks her from going up the stairs.

"Move, Ichabod."

"You were supposed to be here."

"I know that. I don't need you reminding me."

"You could have fooled me."

She walks toward the door. There are too many times where their arguing wakes Mel. He opens to door, and then he follows behind her.

"What the fuck do you want me to say? You're tired of my apologies."

"It's not what I want you to say, Abbie. It's your actions. I want to see you watch a film with her, read her a book, send her to bed, hold her hand when she's in the hospital scared. Stop being a horrible mother."

She slaps him. Her eyes burn again. Her face is hot. She breathes hard.

"Listen, you son of a bitch, I am _not_ a horrible mother. You don't know how much I worry about her, how much I wish I could see her grow, how much I want to care for her if she's ever in the hospital. Calling isn't the same as being there. It doesn't make up for my absence, especially tonight. I hurt her too much, disappoint her. I goddamned _know_ that. But I call her anyway. I try to spend as much of my free time with her. And I work my ass off to ensure she has the best possible health care, that she's in best home schooling program One way or another, I'll make damn sure she's aware she has a mama who's determined to be a part of her life. Do not tell me I'm a horrible mother."

She stomps off. This is how they are now. He insults her motherhood. They go to bed angry and sharp. Apologies aren't said in the morning. They are calmer though and try to start again. It ends the same.

She takes a shower and goes into Mel's room. She lies in her bed and pulls her close.

"Mama?"

"I'm home now, baby girl." She kisses her forehead. "Sleep, okay?"

Mel's breath on her collar bone soothes her. It's a relief. Her daughter is safe and healthy, vibrating with green youth.

"Love you, mama."

Abbie tries not to choke on those words.

"I love you, too, Mel. Always."

* * *

She is tired, but she doesn't care that she wakes up at 7am. She likes to watch Mel sleep, often finding things she missed during the week. She has a new comforter. Abbie wouldn't expect none other than Princess Tiana. Her hair is a little longer. Her nails are painted rainbow colors. She touches them, regretful she didn't paint them with her. They'll probably be a different color the next time she sees them. Abbie finally goes back to sleep.

She's shaken awake. It's 10am.

"Good morning, Mel."

"Morning, mama."

"You hungry?"

She nods.

"Come on then, sweet pea." Abbie stretches.

She gives Mel a piggy back ride downstairs. On weekends, Crane leaves them alone. He doesn't bother them unless he has to. He stays shut off in the bedroom, his study, or he goes to a bookstore.

"Can I have pancakes?"

"With extra blueberries? Yeah." She smiles at her, kisses her cheek for the hundredth time when she sits her in a chair. "I've missed you. Daddy told me you were sad. He said you cried because I wasn't here last night. Mama never wants to make you cry, baby. I'm very, very sorry. You know I love you, right? Even if I'm not here all the time? It may not feel like it, but I do. I love you more than you know."

She nods. "Love you, too."

"Do you want to re-watch the movies?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Let me get breakfast started."

Abbie takes out the eggs, bacon, pancake mix, and whatever else she needs.

"Miss Sophie liked the movies. She singed with me."

"She did?"

Sophie did tell her she was a kid at heart when they first met. Now, she really believed it.

"Yeah. I thought she was going to stay for a sleepover."

Abbie turns around. "What?"

"A sleepover."

"What do you mean?"

Is she hearing right? Sophie? Spending the night?

"I woke back up. I had a bad dream. I went to find daddy. He was downstairs with Miss Sophie."

"What did he say?"

"He said Miss Sophie was helping him clean up. Then daddy put me back to sleep."

"Has Sophie ever had a sleepover with you and daddy before?"

"No. She goes home."

She nods. "Breakfast will be done soon."

She doesn't feel anything, doesn't know what to think, and doesn't want suspicions and what-ifs hissing in her head. There are questions she won't ask herself right now. Questions she doesn't want the answers to yet. The smell of bacon and pancakes are a good distraction. And as she holds Mel close on the sofa, the Disney movies distract her, too.


	5. Receipt

Happy 4th of July everyone. Safe travels to you all. Thank you for reading. Stuff is building. :)

* * *

Crane is purchasing his books when he hears a familiar voice at the checkout register beside him. He turns his head to the person.

"Ash, what a pleasant surprise to find you here. How are you?"

He smiles. "Happy for the weekend. You?"

"I am rather well myself. Thank you for asking. Shall we catch up after your transaction is complete?"

Ash nods and finishes up as Crane steps out of line and waits near a book display table. He met Ash on a couple occasions. Before Abbie became director, Crane spent lunch breaks with her. He often found him sitting at her desk, discussing last minute details about cases that'd probably make him queasy. Ash was very kind to him. Crane even found out he was interested in history while on a lunch visit.

After a minute, Ash joins him. "Classes going okay? History, right?"

"Yes, they are going well, though I am ready for a break from my students. What about yourself? Is the FBI still to your liking?"

"It is. It's going fine. Keeps me busy." He pauses, glances around. "Abbie isn't with you?"

"She is at home with our daughter. Would you like me to pass along a message?"

He takes out his receipt, grabs a pen from his pocket, and scribbles down a quick note. He folds it and hands it to Crane. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. I shall pass this along. I suppose I should be getting back. I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend."

Ash wishes him the same. "Please, tell Abbie hi for me." He pauses. "I'm glad I work with her. She's…amazing."

The note itches in his palm as he catches something in Ash's voice, something a little intimate. "Indeed, she is."

They exchange goodbyes. Crane opens the note in his car. "Relax this weekend, Superwoman."

He folds it, shoves it in his shopping bag. Memories come back. That name fell off his tongue at the start of their marriage. He whispered it in Abbie's ear, on her breasts, between her naval and legs. He believed she could do anything: be the best mother, the best wife, the best FBI employee. She was his Superwoman. He hadn't thought of her that way in a while. Now, here is this man, her work partner, calling her a name Crane reserved for her. And his comment about how amazing she is…Numerous questions come to mind, yet he isn't prepared to ask them or answer them. As Crane cranks his car and pulls off, he pretends the note doesn't say what it might say.

* * *

Crane finds Abbie and Melody, in mixed matched pjs, dancing and singing along to a Disney princess movie in the living room. They hold hands. Abbie twirls her. He smiles at their laughter and off-pitch harmonies. Then he thinks about the note he's going to give Abbie and he can't smile anymore after that. They startle when they see him.

"My apologies for frightening you two. I did not intend to." He places his bag on the sofa.

Melody runs to him, pulls his hand. "Come dance with Mama, daddy."

He tries to object, but it's too late. She ties his and Abbie's hand together. She barely looks his way. They stand there, just holding hands.

"Dance," Melody says.

They put on a fake smile in the midst of suspicion and last night's anger. Mel ends up pushing them together, forcing them closer than they want to be at the moment. She mentions juice, quickly disappears.

Then he gazes at Abbie, at his Superwoman. He sees the woman he fell in love with. Strong. Beautiful. Witty. He sees a woman who is hurting, who he's hurt. Maybe it's the orchestrated music and lovey, dovey lyrics. Maybe it's the fact that he's holding her. Maybe it's her breath against his lips. The real reason doesn't come before he kisses her. Her lips taste of maple and salt. She sighs while he moans once their tongues swirl. He thinks about Ash's comment. The note. His own involving with Miss Foster. How he fit into her. How he said her name. How he wanted to make love to his wife instead. A little pang in his chest beats. Slow guilt that quickly turns into a roaring. And he has to walk away.


	6. Skeletons

Abbie touches her lips, stares at the floor. She can't really remember the last time her and Crane kissed. A couple of days ago? Last week? Last month? She watches him excuse himself, taking his bag with him. He leaves her with that early-marriage feeling: the orange butterflies, the light head, the breathlessness, the giving love for him. His biting words and Melody's reveal interrupts that old thing she had with him. A sting remains in its place, which gets worse as she recalls what she did last night.

"Where did daddy go?" Mel says when she returns. Her lips are stained purple from grape juice.

"He had to go upstairs, baby. Finish watching the movie. I'll be back in a second." She leaves a kiss on her forehead.

She finds Crane in their room, stacking a new book in the corner with other books he hasn't read yet. He saves them for summer reading. Used to read to her.

"How was the bookstore?" she says.

"It was swell. I ran into Ash. He wanted me to give this to you." He hands her a receipt.

She tries not to blush when she reads it, catches her lip between her teeth.

"Is something amusing?"

"No." She slides it in her pajama pocket. "It's sweet. He's sweet."

"He is, is he?"

She squints her eyes, can feel a quarrel about to ensue if she chooses the wrong words. "Is there something you want to say, Crane?"

He clucks his tongue.

"Don't do that."

That means something weighs. And he's deciding whether or not to tell her. He steps to her, touches her cheek. She misses that, misses him. A faint drum bumps in her chest. Last night flashes itself again. She saw her opening her legs for a man who wasn't hers, for a man she wanted to be Crane. And she feels a little guilty.

"He spoke fondly of you, is all. I…I read it. He refers to you as Superwoman."

The drum gets louder, startles her even. His face frowns. It's worse when he doesn't look at her. Because she wants him to. She wants him to see the woman she's been trying to be for him, for Melody, and for herself since being promoted. Her hands lift his face. She wants to kiss him again, be his Superwoman. Then she thinks about Sophie. The nagging that comes with that, like buzzing mosquitoes that bite and pong around. She thinks about the skeletons he probably keeps six feet under.

"He's sweet. That's all." She pauses. "How is Sophie? I missed her last night."

"She's doing rather well."

"I hope she didn't stay too late watching movies. Don't like to keep her away from her own life, you know?"

"Indeed. She left at a reasonable time."

Anger makes an entrance. It's bright. He didn't go in specifics, which he normally does. He's very particular about time. She can never get him to stop reminding her when she's late. There's a lie somewhere. Something he's not admitting to her. And that's when she stomps her own skeletons six feet under.

"I see."

She goes to the books in the corner.


	7. Cherries

Somewhere during "Just Around the Riverbend," Mel falls asleep on Abbie's thighs, so she carries her upstairs. She watches her sleep. Plays in her hair. Kisses her forehead. Counts the number of colors on her tiny fingernails before she sleeps herself.

It is late afternoon when Abbie wakes. Mel is still asleep, so she leaves her be as she walks downstairs for a glass of water and a snack. Perhaps those Rainier cherries she saw earlier.

Crane's in the kitchen, too. Bent inside the fridge, sliding round containers and gallons of juice for an item that's far in the back.

"Looking for a snack, too?" Abbie says.

He jumps, bumps his head. The fridge light flickers.

"Bloody hell."

She laughs. "You scare too easily."

He faces her, with the cherries in his hand. "It is quite unfortunate for my sake."

"Is your head okay?"

He massages a patch of his hair. "It is fine. Thank you. Would you like some cherries?"

She smiles. "It's what I wanted actually."

"They're your favorite, I know." He returns her smile and opens the pack of cherries for them to dig into. They bit around seeds and place them on a napkin Crane sits between them. It's quiet for a while.

She shouldn't question it, but she does. "You still remember that?"

His eyebrows question her. "Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugs, picks in the bag. "We've been fighting since Mel got sick. I guess I feel like I've pissed you off so much that maybe…."

Her throat tightens as she shields her eyes away from him, so he doesn't see her cry. He holds her cheeks in his palms, kisses her forehead.

"Treasure. Abbie. I will always love you with all I am.

She wonders if he's lying to her. He could have cheated on her with Sophie, yet here he stands, proclaiming a love for her that hasn't died out. And yet, here she stands, resting her hands against his beard and proclaiming the same.

"I still love you, too."

Despite all their shit. Despite her infidelity. Despite the ways he's hurt her and the ways she's hurt him. She remembers how wild and determined they were for each other and their relationship. They were more than happy.

"What else do you remember?" She says.

Abbie remembers how he likes his tea. Kettle-boiled. Three sugar cubes. Peppermint or chamomile. A splash of rum. Maybe lemon. He has the teeth and tongue for sweets, particularly doughnuts. His antique boots and military jacket are his prized possessions. He's picky about ties. Can read century-old books for hours by candle light. Enjoys quill-penned letters. She remembers he likes to be seduced, teased, toyed with until he's stuck on the syllable of her name. She remembers everything.

"You enjoy singing, particularly the soulful tunes of Billie Holiday and Etta James. You'd live on the beach if you could. The waves bring you peace. You despise raisins. Leather jackets and boots are your favorite accessories, not to mention those snug skinny jeans you sport. Romance movies make you cry, specifically the 'Titanic.' Lastly, I know how you like to be held. Kissed. Fucked."

"Show me."

He sits her on the counter. Her legs open for him, curl around his waist. His tongue dips in and out of her mouth. Ash flashes behind her lids. There's that throbbing guilt. But there's mostly want and desire for Crane, for _them._ She wonders if he has this same feelings. He nips her bottom lip, squeezes her ass. She moans. Again, how long has it _been_? She misses all he is. Mumbles it into his neck. He misses her, too. Her hands slide under his shirt. His lips suck a weak point on her neck. They are sloppy and breathe heavy when they kiss again. Hands are everywhere. Before she can snatch his shirt off, she hears her little girl's voice.

"Mama, Daddy?"

Mel stands in the kitchen, watching them with her head titled.

They quickly right themselves. She's somewhat embarrassed to be caught this way. Abbie walks over to her.

"You okay, baby girl? You're done with your nap?"

She nods.

"Hungry?"

She nods again. "Can we go to Carly's? We go there with Miss Sophie."

"You do, do you?"

Abbie isn't too tickled about going to a restaurant that Sophie, Crane, and Mel go to without her, where they order their favorite meals, probably get free dessert for being frequent customers, share inside jokes with the waiters, and stay until closing. She isn't a part of that loop.

"Yeah. Miss Sophie always gets the double bacon burger."

Her green wants to show, but she puts it in check.

"Sounds good. What do you get?"

"The grilled cheese with extra cheese."

"I'll have to try that with you, sweet pea."

"Can you eat with us daddy?"

He kneels in front of her, glances at Abbie. "I do not want to intrude on mother-daughter time—"

"Come with us, Crane."

He nods.

She wants them to try again, to get back to them.


	8. Bathroom

Thank you all for reading. :) More to come. :)

* * *

The diner isn't too crowded. People sit at checkered tables with colorful drinks she's never seen. She smells bacon and grease, onions and hot wings. A hostess leads them to a booth by the window and slides menus in front of them. Mel and Crane order tropical lemonades and what they want for dinner. Abbie tries the lemonade, too, and asks for grill cheese. As they wait for their meal, Abbie excuses herself to the bathroom.

While she dries her hands, a stall opens. A woman comes out. In the mirror, she sees it is Sophie. Suddenly, she's annoyed.

"Abbie? I wasn't expecting to run into you. How are you?" Sophie turns on the water, pumps soap from the dispenser.

She should have told Mel to pick a different place.

"Fine."

"Awesome. Are Mel and Crane here, too?"

"Yeah."

She nods. "Tell them hi for me."

Abbie's lips are in a thin line as she watches Sophie dry her hands. She wonders how often they've touched Crane. She itches for the truth.

"Sophie, I have a question." She looks at her.

Her smile kind of fades. "Sure."

"Have you ever slept with my husband?"

Sophie swallows. Her cheeks are too red. There isn't an answer right away. She stares at the floor.

"I can tell if you're lying."

"Can we talk about this elsewhere?"

Abbie sighs, frustrated. She knows the answer now, but she wants to hear it.

"If you were women enough to fuck my husband in my goddamned house, then you're woman enough to tell it to my face."

It's a weak admission, a mousy yes. Abbie hears it all the same.

"Why?"

"I felt bad for him, tried to be what he needed in that moment. Attempted to at least."

"Are you attracted to him?"

"He's a great father, charming, and a gentleman. It was hard not to be at times."

"He wanted you to be me, to fill all the areas I lack in, if only for a little bit. I think you're smart enough to know I'm not replaceable."

"I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" She chuckles. "I really want to cuss you the hell out right now, but I won't. This isn't the time or place."

"I'm really sorry, Abbie."

She doesn't want her apology. She's by the door.

"Your services are no longer needed. You're fired. I'll mail your last pay check."

Abbie walks out the bathroom. Emotions twist her. She's pissed at Crane, Sophie, and herself. Who's the blame? Was it her? Was it Crane? She cheated, too. There's not much room for her to talk. It's hypocritical of her. Yet, she still wants to slap the shit out of him. And she very well might as she plops down at the table.

* * *

She tries hard to swallow the thick and creamy mix of cheese on her sandwich. All she wants to do is blurt the truth, shed the scars beneath her breastbone.

"Has something soured your mood, Abbie?" Crane says, reaching for her hand.

She breathes, fake smiles, and tugs her hand away.

"I'm tired."

He knows something is wrong. "We can discuss it later if you'd—"

"Crane."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I shall change the subject."

She doesn't even want to look at him right now, but she has to put on a brave face in front of their daughter. Abbie won't show her ass in front of her.

Mel points at someone. "Look. It's Miss Sophie." She waves, shouts her name.

Sophie spots her, smiles slightly before quickly glancing away.

"Can she eat with us?" Mel says.

Abbie's tongue feels loose. There are things she wants to say that wouldn't be appropriate. Her cheeks are hot, and she bites her lip. Breathes. Once. Twice.

"She can't sit with us, Melody. She's with her friends. Finish your food."

"Will I see her Monday?"

She grips the booth seat with her palms. "How's your grilled cheese?"

"Good."

"Okay. Finish it before it gets cold. No more questions. Alright?"

Mel sighs. "Alright."

She refuses to look at Crane. They finish their dinner in silence.

* * *

After Crane helps Mel in the car, he takes Abbie's hand again. "May we have a moment?"

She pulls it away. They step away from the car.

"What is the matter, love?" He tries to touch her cheek, but she won't let him.

Her arms cross.

"I ran into Sophie in the restroom. She told me some things."

"Would you mind elaborating? I'm afraid I do not understand."

She believes he's kidding. How could he act clueless? How could he not admit it? She steps closer to him.

"I _know,_ Ichabod. I asked her. She told me." She shakes her head, feels that anger rising, that blinding red. Her eyes shut. She reminds herself to breathe before she says the words aloud. "You fucked Sophie. In our goddamned home. With our fucking daughter right upstairs no less. I—"

He tries to hold her hand.

"Do not touch me."

And he doesn't. An apology is on his bottom lip. She feels it coming, yet she won't let him say it. She wants him to feel those sharp pricks under his breastbone, too.

"I slept with Ash."

His mouth opens. She hears nothing from him, only watches him swallow and fold his hands behind his back. He steps closer to her, exhales through his nose. His breath hits her face in quick puffs. And now he knows that sting, too, those same scars. She gets in the car. He drives them home in still anger.


	9. Prove It

Another chapter. :) Someone mentioned Mel should go to Jenny's. I think they're right. Lol Thank you all so much for reading. :) Thougts please. Love to hear them. :) I promise I'm going to fix this somehow. Lol

* * *

Crane doesn't know what to say to Abbie, how to address what fled from her tongue five minutes ago. He's ten miles per hour over the speed limit and doesn't much care. All he knows is that he's an ireful man who has to hold his own tongue for the sake of his child in the backseat.

"Drop her off at Jenny's," Abbie says.

He refuses to say a word to her and makes the proper turn to Miss Jenny's home, his sister-in-law.

"Why am I staying at Auntie Jenny's house?" Mel says.

"Daddy and I need some time alone. We have to talk about something really important. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll come get you tomorrow morning, sweetie."

"Alright."

Crane chuckles. "This is the first."

"You got something to say, Ichabod?"

"I haven't known you to pick her up or drop her off in a while, not from the hospital or from her homeschool group."

Though he doesn't receive a response from her, he knows he's pushing her buttons, that she's fuming underneath her skin. He wishes the car ride was shorter. It's only been about ten minutes total. There's so much he wants to yell at her for. His imagination tricks him. He sees her and Ash together in bed, naked. She's giggling and then moaning at something he's doing to her under the sheets. He watches Abbie crying in his arms, running to him for protection and comfort. Abbie easily lets Ash hold her from behind. She leans into his chest. And Crane can't stand it, can't stand all the ways Ash filled the places he should have filled, emotionally and physically. He can't decide who he's more pissed at. Himself, Abbie, or Ash.

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

"You're mad at daddy, and daddy is mad at you. Was I being bad?"

Crane saddens at listening to Mel. He never wants their daughter to think they are fighting because of her.

Abbie twists in her seat to look at her the best she can. "Oh, sweet pea, you did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? Nothing. Your father and I are mad at each other, yes, but it's not because of you. You're the best daughter we could have asked for. Always know that."

"Will you and daddy be okay?"

"Don't worry about us. You just have fun with Auntie Jenny. Promise?"

"Promise."

He parks in the driveway. Abbie quickly gets out and walks Mel to the door. When she kisses and hugs her, Crane realizes they have to do better, for Melody if not for themselves. He feels guilty for what he's done. She's the one affected by their actions. Yet, he can't push his anger or pride aside. Not yet. Not until he has her skeletons in his hand and she has his.

Abbie gets back in the car without a word once more. He's still drives ten miles per hour over the speed limit. It's like he can't get home quick enough.

* * *

She hurries out the car because she doesn't want to be near him anymore. She's disgusted by all sorts of things. At herself and for even letting her marriage get to such a state. At Sophie for not walking away. At Crane for fucking Sophie God-knows-where in their home. Nothing she looks at is the same to her. Not the couch, not the wall, not his study, not their bedroom. The tables. The chairs. Hell, the floor even. She thinks she catches glimpse of them sharing intimacy, laughing, playing, crying, comforting. All over she's icky and wants to shower. Maybe burn the sheets in their room, too.

Abbie's not ready to confront him, but as she hears him slam the front door, she knows he's more than ready for answers. She tries to go somewhere, anywhere away from him until he blocks her path.

"I demand an explanation."

She scoffs. "You're not the only one who deserves a goddamned explanation, Ichabod. You want the fucking truth? You want to know why I did it?"

"Enlighten me." He's in her face.

"You stopped supporting me, Crane. You stopped encouraging me."

"And as a result, you decide to look for that in another man? You _fuck_ your co-worker because he calls you Superwoman one time?"

"Yes!" She pokes him in his chest. "Because you weren't doing your damn job as my husband. Because you wanted to be a fucking asshole and made sure I knew I was a terrible mom. You've even said as much—."

"Because you weren't there, Abbie! _She_ needed you. _I_ needed you. Do you know how many times she cried for you? How many times I sat in the waiting room alone without my wife for comfort? You didn't show up for us! Even after she got better, you were hardly around. Sophie was. She more of a mother figure than you."

She pushes him, punches his chest. "Stop throwing her in my damned face. Stop doing that shit! You used her to fill my place, especially with Mel. You constantly compare me to her. That shit isn't right. I don't deserve that. And as for my job, what the hell am I supposed to do? I _work_ , Ichabod. I can't help my schedule or what comes up."

"I don't give a damn! I work, too! Yet, I still manage to be her father, to take her to the hospital for check-ups, to help her with projects and watch movies, to kiss her goodnight. I've even made the change to teach fully online just to care for her while you worked overnight or traveled. Need I remind you that was before she got sick. I've sacrificed for her. What have you given up?"

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair!"

"You want me to fucking quite then?"

"I want you to find a more flexible position, damn it! I'm not asking you to quite your fucking job, for crying out loud. I would never ask you to do such."

"I can't!"

"Bullshit. You _can._ You can. However, you decide not to because you prefer to have your cake and eat it, too. It's not fair that I've had to give up my dream job while you continue to move up the ladder. Yes, I'll admit that I was jealous when you were promoted. I gave up what I wanted because I had to put my daughter first. I'd sure as hell do it again if it meant she has a parent who's there. I'll do whatever it takes for her. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure."

"I'm the selfish one? Is that it, Ichabod? I'm the bad parent and you're the good parent?"

"I believe the term is: If the shoe fits."

"You goddamned bastard. This is the problem right here. You always imply that I'm the worst parent, that you're somehow better than me. You keep riding your fucking high horse. This is exactly why I slept with Ash! He told me I was a good mom. He was proud of me. I was enough. And with him, I felt like I was. All I needed from you was validation."

"Until you prove to me and to Melody that you can be in her life, I will say no such thing. You rant about me not fulfilling my duties as your husband when you can't even complete your responsibilities as a mother."

"Stop punishing me, Ichabod! I'm tired of it. I'm trying. Can't you see that?"

She knows it doesn't make up for it, that's it's never truly enough, but she makes sure her baby wants for nothing. She's the first person Mel sees every morning when she wakes up on the weekends. Abbie calls her at least three times a day, during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Video calls when she can. Sends texts to Crane to pass to Mel. It's rare, but if she can get off work early, she does.

"No, I can't. Simply trying isn't enough."

And she walks away. There's no point in arguing with him anymore. If he can't give her what her what she wants, then why is she here?

"Do not walk away from me. We're not finished."

"We're more than finished. You've made it pretty goddamned clear how you see me."

He rushes in front of her, holds her wrists to his chest. "We are _not_ finished."

"Yes, the fuck we are. Let me go, Ichabod." She tries to wiggle from him. He's holding her too snug to where she can't get away.

And he's looking at her like he never wants to let her go. Ever. Not out of his sight, not out of their marriage.

Her eyes are elsewhere.

"Look at me."

She refuses to do so.

"Abbie."

She fights the urge to look at him when he says her name like that. Right now, she hates him for it but loves him for it, too. She hears everything when he calls her that way: his desperation, his fear of losing her, his love for her. And damnit, she stares at him. Here they are again, like in the kitchen and the living room. His breath feels good on her face. He smells the same, like damned pine trees. He's telling it all with his eyes. They aren't finished. They are _never_ finished as long as he lives. She kisses him in agreement. It's not gentle in the slightest; she doesn't much care.

And suddenly she stops. He doesn't deserve her right now. He's not the husband she fell in love with a few years ago, the one who told her she was Superwoman and could do anything. She wants him to believe in her again, to see she's doing her best, to see she is a great mom despite her hectic career. Until he proves that, there's nothing of hers she wants to give him. She walks away.


	10. Hospital

Happy Monday. :) I know it's been a while since I posted. Been a little busy. Anyway, I promise I'll fix this. And your comments and honesty are welcome. I appreciate it so much. I always want to know your thoughts about this story. Share as much as you want. :)

* * *

Abbie's upstairs, packing two suitcases: one for her and one for Mel. She needs to think, to cry, and to be bitter like a lemon's pulp. It'll be good for them. She won't have to listen to his tangy words while he won't have to flare red at her motherly absence. They'll be out of each other's way. After she packs, she texts Ash and asks him to cover for her, briefly explains that she needs to focus on her family right now. Her phone would be beside her if he needed anything, and she'd check her e-mail, too. He agrees to help her and wishes her the best in her marriage, though she doesn't quite know how to feel about his comment and her marriage itself. The luggage sits by the door. Crane's in the kitchen, downing iced rum.

"I'm going to Jenny's for a while."

He doesn't look at her. "I'll shall pick up, Mel."

"She's not staying with you, Crane."

That caught his attention. "Is this a so-called punishment?"

"We're not about to do this."

She's too tired to have another fight.

"Who, exactly, will take care of her? Your sister travels half the time and your schedule doesn't leave room for her. Mr. Corbin works long hours during the night as an EMT. He needs his rest in the morning and afternoon. Who will provide for her during the day? What about her homeschooling program? Do you even remember her hours? There's also her treatment. Who will administer her medication if she has an attack? She needs a stable parent, Abbie."

"Go fuck yourself, Ichabod. Don't worry about her."

"These are valid concerns."

"Concerns my ass. You're belittling me and my role as her Mama again. I know how to take care of my goddamned daughter. Are you shitting me?"

"No, I'm not. It doesn't make sense for you to have Melody at Miss Jenny and Joe's when—"

"I'm taking two weeks off work! She'll be with me all day. You don't think I know what she fucking needs?"

"Most days I can't tell."

She leaves him in the kitchen because she isn't about to listen to more of his shit. If he can't even trust her to care for their child, then there's no point in her sticking around. She's not going to make him see her worth as a parent. After the luggage is in the car, she speeds off in a hurry.

* * *

Mel questions her like she expects when she walks into the guest bedroom with their bags. She tells her the kiddie version: that her and daddy need some time apart to figure things out, but everything will be okay. Don't worry, baby girl; remember this is not your fault.

"You'll spend lots of time with Auntie Jenny and Uncle Joe. We'll be able to spend time together, too, you know? Mama's taking a little vacation from work. We can do whatever you want, kiddo."

"Yay!" Mel says, and hugs her. "Like watching princess movies and playing games?"

"Exactly." Abbie kisses her cheek. "I love you so much."

"Love you, too, Mama."

"I'm going to go talk to Auntie Jenny for a bit. I'll be back, okay?"

She nods and turns her attention to the cartoons.

Jenny paces in the kitchen. "You want to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Crane? You've got me all worried. Is my niece alright?"

Abbie finds some wine in her fridge and pulls out two glasses. "Mel's fine." She pours them a glass and swallows hers quicker than she likes to admit. Her glass is refilled and then she explains everything.

"I'm going to kick his ass. And I should kick your ass, too. You both stooped too low. This isn't the couple I know. I don't even…" Jenny shakes her head. "I don't even know where to fucking start. Shit, Abbie." She sighs, sits at the table. "Do you want your marriage at this point?"

With her glass in hand, she takes a seat, too, shrugs. "I really need to think about it. I can't forgive him right now. None of this would've started if he wasn't an asshole toward me. He's been like that since Mel first got sick." A lump hurts her throat. "It's not like I intentionally miss her appointments. I always want to be there for her, but he doesn't see it that way. He's thinks I'm an unfit mom. And I think I'm starting to believe it."

Her sister hugs her, kisses her forehead. "Abbie, that's not true. He may be my brother-in-law, but he can really shove his self-righteous attitude up his ass. I'll gladly do it myself. You may not be there for her as often as you want, but if you didn't care, you wouldn't even be having this conversation with me. You wouldn't be involved in her life at all. You're a wonderful mom. Crane can kiss your ass for all I care."

She exhales, rubs her eyes. "It's been a lot."

Marriage exhausts her nowadays. Why can't it be simple like it was before? Abbie doesn't even know if they'll survive this. How do they call a ceasefire?

"I can imagine. Listen, I can't tell you what you should do about your marriage. You know I'll support you in whatever choice you make. But ask yourself this: If you two were to walk away from each other today, would you be at peace with that?"

She can't answer that question right away, though she does feel lighter without Crane's nagging and anger. Much lighter. She sips more of her wine.

"I've never known you to be so wise. Where did this come from?"

"Let's just say you and Crane aren't the only ones with issues. Me and Joe have been married for only a year, but we've had our fights, too. It's because of our jobs. Our work schedules are so opposite that we've missed days, weeks even without connecting, you know? Either I'm boarding a plane for antiquing or he's clocking out of his shift and heading home for bed.

"The communication wasn't there. We'd snip at each other for missed calls and text messages. We were late for anniversaries or planned evenings together. Sometimes one of us didn't show up at all because we forgot or work ran late. It got so bad, that at one point, we turned to other people for emotional and physical intimacy. They were available. They gave us what we didn't have time to give each other." She breathes deep. "I know how you feel. You're betrayed and the betrayer."

This admission shocks her, but Abbie hugs her sister as tight as she can. She didn't know they dealt with infidelity. "Jenny, I'm so sorry you went through this alone. I didn't know things were that bad. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had a lot on your plate. I didn't want to add stress. Joe and I are good now."

It stings that she says that. She can't even make time for her sister because of her job.

"You're not a bother. Whatever it is, I want to know. I'm actually not going into work for a bit, so we can catch up."

"We'll do that." Jenny smiles.

"How did you and Joe work it out? What happened?"

"Our jobs are important to us, but at what cost? We had to ask ourselves that, too. It wasn't worth missing out on each other. Work had to take a back seat. I want him around, even if he does hog all the covers and snores. He's my Joe."

"I'm glad you two are okay. Do you think Crane and I will be alright? Honestly?"

"I can't answer that, Abbie. Anything is possible, but it's up to you two. It doesn't much matter what I think. You're the one who has to live with the man. The most I can say is acknowledge each other's truth. Really listen. Without arguing and pointing fingers. That's the best thing, for starters. Just listen."

Abbie hugs her sister once more. "I love you. Thank you for the advice."

"I hope it helps."

"It does."

They finish half the bottle of wine.

* * *

Abbie's back upstairs. All she wants to do is cuddle with her baby girl and watch movies. Maybe they'll paint their nails a little later and make an eccentric dish with Jenny. It'll be a girl's day the rest of the weekend. She can't believe it's still only Saturday, which feels long and enduring.

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?" Abbie sits on the bed, and Mel crawls into her lap. She lays her head on her chest.

"I miss you, Mama."

Abbie kisses her forehead. "I miss you, too, Mel. I always want to spend time with you. Sometimes I get really sad that I can't."

She doesn't get the in-betweens, like hearing her repeat her times tables or watching her pout at having to eat spinach. At times, it overwhelms her so much that she cries in her office when she's alone and on her lunch break. Crane refuses to bring her for lunch like she wants him to. He wouldn't have to bring her for lunch if she didn't work so much, he said. It pissed her off, and she just stopped asking to avoid a long fight.

Mel's quiet and then she begins to cry as she clings to Abbie, who rubs her back. It hurts seeing her like this, and she wishes her and Crane were on good terms, that they were the happy family they once were. There's nothing worse than witnessing your child's heartbreak and realizing it's because of you.

"How are you feeling, Mel? Talk to me, baby."

She tries to speak but only cries harder. Abbie soothingly reminds her to relax and to take a breath. It doesn't work. And suddenly Mel's breathing accelerates; she struggles for air, puts her hand on her chest. Abbie quickly searches for her inhaler in her suitcase. Mel inhales four puffs. The medication doesn't ease her attack **.** Her lips begin to blue. Abbie doesn't waste time dialing 911, so she sets Mel on her hip, snatches her keys and phone, and darts downstairs.

"Jenny!"

Her sister hurries from the kitchen.

She speaks fast as she swings open the door and rushes outside to her car. "I need you to drive. Call Crane. She's having an attack. Her inhaler isn't working."

Jenny takes the keys from her while she gets in the back with Mel. They speed off.

* * *

Crane drives 80 in a 45. He doesn't care. All he's trying to do is arrive at the hospital to check on his child, to ensure her health. Everything else be damned. In 15 minutes, he's at the children's hospital, where he rushes toward the emergency room. He spots Abbie and Jenny.

"Abbie."

As she hurries to him, her words bump together, but he hears her clearly all the same. It's their fault. It's because of them that she's in the hospital.

"Mel will be okay, won't she?" Abbie crumbles, and he pulls her to him. She's crying in his chest. And he tries not to fall apart himself. The last thing he wanted was for their issues to affect their daughter's health.

"She is strong," he says into her neck, though he isn't sure himself. "Melody is a fighter."

Then beneath his tears, worry, and the knobs of guilt brewing beneath his skin, Crane softly says, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Abigail."

* * *

Abbie sits in a cold chair in the waiting room. Crane's holding her hand; his thumb circles her knuckles. The doctor said once they get her breathing under control, they'd be able to take her home. Jenny went for some air and a snack to give them privacy. Abbie feels funny about his apology. She releases her hand from his. He stares at her.

"Did you mean it, Ichabod?"

She can't imagine him turning his anger around so quickly. He's held onto it for a while and all of sudden she has his undying love and support. It's bullshit to her.

He kneels in front of her. "I meant it. I owe you more than the words themselves."

"It took Mel having an asthma attack for you to own up to your shit, for you to realize how wrong and unfair you've been towards me?"

His silence is expected. What can he say?

"We shouldn't have never even gotten to this point in the first place, Crane. The first time I couldn't be there for her, you completely held it against me. You've even purposely withheld her from me, as if I don't deserve access to her, as if I'm the worst person she's ever encountered. I'm not accepting your half-assed apology. You're not absolved from anything, Crane. If you're truly sorry, you're going to have to show me that you are."

He nods and looks at her like she broke him in half. She doesn't care because she's just as broken herself.

* * *

They're finally able to take Mel home. She's asleep when they buckle her in Abbie's car. Abbie gave the doctor a summary of what happened. Her and Crane have been having some marital issues. Her and Melody talked about it a little today, and it really overwhelmed her. The doctor said she shouldn't be in a stressful environment, that fighting parents isn't good for her asthma. It's an emotional trigger. Whatever problems they had, they needed to sort them out for Mel's sake. Quickly. They agreed they'd work on it.

Abbie's in Mel's room, monitoring her while Crane went to Jenny's to get their luggage. She hears the front door open after a short while. He walks up the stairs.

Crane sits on the opposite side of the bed. His eyes are stuck on Mel, too. Her breathing sounds the way it's supposed to: calm.

"I don't where we go from here, Ichabod, but we have to try to get to a better place, whatever that means. She deserves our best."

"I couldn't agree more."

They continue to watch their daughter sleep.


	11. Back to Us

So sorry for not posting in forever! Just finished up another semester of grad school and an internship a few weeks ago. Been enjoying my winter break so far. Thank you all for your patience and reviews. I appreciate all of them. Y'all are very honest. Lol I like that. And just because I think it should be said, let's remember to be respectful to others. I know this story gets people riled up, and that's okay, but let's remember to be kind when expressing viewpoints. :) Also thank you so much for the support in reading this messy AF fic. It was a journey for everyone reading as well as the characters. And now it's come to an end. Enjoy these last two chapters of the story. :)

* * *

Abbie wakes up in Mel's room. A fuzzy blanket covers her. Mel's still asleep and tucked under her comforter. Abbie kisses her baby girl's forehead and fingers through her hair before she gets up to stretch and pee. On the way downstairs, she yawns. Crane's in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Blueberry French toast. Mel's favorite.

"Good morning." He's over the stove, flipping and flattening with the spatula.

"Morning." She sits at the counter. "How did you sleep?"

He sets a coffee in front of her. "I've had better nights. And yourself?"

Her eyes fall into her mug. "Same."

He finishes up the toast. "Is she still sleeping?"

"Yeah."

"We shall let her rest then. I can imagine she's exhausted."

Abbie nods, though she's looking at his back. His apology still surprises her. And she doesn't know what to make of it. An apology should come from her lips, too. He's not the only one who has to repent. She misses him, wants them to start over and be a new, shiny couple, a better family. But where does she start? How can they be genuine without throwing sharp pebbles? Without making the other bleed?

"Do you need help with breakfast?"

He turns to her with a tiny smile. The old memories spark. They cooked together early on in their relationship, but it was more like mischievous behavior for them. She snuck her finger into his bowl of sweet batter. He swiped a piece of her baker's bread. They bumped hips, grazed shoulders, smiled sly. Winked. Kissed necks, cheeks, or lips while reaching for a spoon or the cayenne pepper. Flirts, they were.

"That would be lovely."

She whisks the eggs and dips her hip into his.

* * *

As she sets the table, she spots Mel rubbing her eyes in the doorway. She's in her purple onesie. Crane picks her up, kisses her cheeks multiple times.

"How's my little love?" he says.

Mel yawns, shrugs. "Hungry."

"Well, lucky for you, your mother and I prepared your favorite."

"Blueberry French toast?"

"Yup," Abbie says.

Mel kisses Crane's nose. Then she wiggles out of his arms to run towards Abbie for a hug.

"Thank you, Mama and daddy."

"You're welcome, sweet pea."

They help her in a chair and fix her plate.

"Can we watch a movie?" Mel says with a mouthful.

"Of course," Abbie says.

Mel suddenly puts her fork down. "Are you and daddy better now?"

Abbie glances at Crane. He doesn't know what to say either. It makes her realize once again just how much their arguing impacts her.

"We're working on it, honey. Not to worry."

"I like you and daddy happy."

She looks at Crane again. "Me, too."

"I couldn't agree more." He grips her hand while she prepares herself to say more.

"I believe both of us owe you an apology, Melody. Your father and I haven't been nice to each other. You've heard us yelling and fighting. We never want you to see us in a bad place, sweetie. We're very sorry for frightening and worrying you. And we never ever want to cause you to have a bad day. It scared us when you had an asthma attack. We don't want that to happen again, and we'll do our part to make sure it doesn't. You're important to us, kiddo. You understand?"

"I understand."

"And we hope you always know that our arguments aren't because of you. You have not done anything wrong. Alright, love?" Crane says.

"Alright, daddy." She finishes her French toast.

They eat in the quiet. Crane doesn't let go of her hand. She doesn't want him to.

* * *

They watch a Disney film that Mel falls asleep on. Crane carries her to her room. Then they go to theirs.

"You think she'll be okay, Crane?"

"I do believe she will be fine, yes." He sits on the bed. "We can't put her through this again, Abbie."

He looks as though he's about to cry, and she kneels in front of him.

"No, we can't." She pauses. "Ichabod, I'm sorry, too."

Her spine is light. It feels good to apologize, to say it and mean it.

"The both of us hurt each other," he says. "I stopped being supportive of you when I should have stood by your side. You needed me, your partner, and I failed you. You found what you needed in another man, in Mr. Ashford. He gave you what I chose not to provide anymore. I would also like to apologize for disrespecting you. I slept with another woman, with our daughter's caretaker. I crossed the line with Miss Sophie. I disregarded our wedding vows and promises to each other as well as our home. I've even called you an unfit mother and compared you to her, on more than one occasion. I pushed you away when all you required from me was encouragement. I truly am sorry, Abigail, and I hope you can forgive me in your own time."

Abbie's near tears herself, and she takes his hands. "Thank you, Ichabod. I'm very sorry I hurt you by sleeping with Ash. I shouldn't have done that, even if I was angry and hurt myself. That wasn't the way to handle things. I knew better. I'm sorry I put my job before my family. If I'm honest, some days I didn't want to come home. I didn't want to fight with you, so I thought it was easier to hide behind work. I have thrown my position in your face. At times, I've made you feel bad about your job, like it wasn't enough. You provide for her just as I do. I appreciate all your sacrifices for her and for me. You started teaching online just to be with Mel while I worked in my new position, even before her asthma. I don't take that for granted."

He kisses her cheek and forehead. She's glad everything is out in the open now. Apologies are being made. They are talking and hearing. Really talking and hearing.

"You've sacrificed for her, too. You work long hours just so she's able to be homeschooled or have adequate healthcare. I don't take that for granted either. You are Superwoman, indeed. However, you don't have to be. You don't have to shoulder it all. I'm sorry if I pressured you into that role, for making you feel like it was required. Everyone needs help. It's my duty, as your husband, to assist you when you need it."

She holds his cheeks in her palms. "That means a lot to me. I can't be perfect. I can only do the best I can as a mom, a wife, and a professional in the workforce. I would like more support. And I'll see what I can do about my hours, so I'm not working through the night."

"I'll have more patience and understanding if your job demands you stay late or travel. I will make accommodations as the situation calls for. After all, we were doing our best even before Melody's asthma. I have no doubt we can do it again."

"You think we'll be able to get back to us eventually?"

He nods, squeezes her hands. "We've already taken the first step."

Now, it was all about keeping their words.

* * *

Mel's up from her nap, so they decide to make chicken quesadillas for lunch. They're at the table, eating and laughing as they listen to Crane tell funny stories about his online students. Abbie's phone interrupts. It's an emergency call from work. Ash needs permission to run intel for one of their cases. Before she steps out, she says she'll be about twenty minutes, but she's an hour and fifteen total. Mel and Crane finished eating and the kitchen's clean. Her plate is wrapped. She's feeling like she's failed them again, like she's missed out. They're in the living room, but Crane comes into the kitchen. She expects him to be mad, to revert to his ways.

"I'm sorry I missed lunch. I didn't expect the call—"

His arms wrap around her waist. He smiles tiny, kisses the corner of her lips, says, "All is forgiven, love. Mel and I were disappointed that you weren't able to finish lunch with us, but we understand. I understand. Your job is quite unpredictable. It's alright."

"Thank you."

"I am trying, just as I know you are." He kisses her.

* * *

It's Abbie's first day back from vacation. She wasn't able to take off work early. She's so backlogged with cases. Her and Ash had a talk this morning. She told him that their relationship has to be strictly professional.

"We're trying to make it work," she told him.

He was disappointed. The frowns in his face said so. He was sincere about it though. "I understand. I wish you nothing but the best." Then he excused himself.

Abbie's on her lunch break now, about to call Crane to tell him she won't be able to make it home by 5pm when she sees him and Mel walk through her office door. He carries bottled teas while Mel holds a bag of sandwiches. They're all smiles.

She gets out her chair to kiss them both. "What are you two doing here?"

"We figured we'd visit you for lunch," Crane says. "I wasn't sure if you would be able to get off work in a timely fashion, so here we are. Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

They sit at her desk and munch away.

"How was she today with her homeschool group?" Abbie says.

Mel's wearing headphones and her eyes stick to the tablet Crane got her. She's watching a movie.

Crane smooths Mel's hair down. She grins at them both with bread between her teeth. Abbie chuckles and shakes her head.

"She was fine. There were no problems. Her asthma has been under control."

"How's she doing in math? I know she's struggling in that right now."

"She's brought her grades up, actually. Mel has the highest grade in the group—a 95 to be exact."

Abbie puts down her sandwich. "When did this happen? Last month she had a C."

"She's had tutoring."

"From who?"

Abbie doesn't recall him telling her about a tutor.

He's quiet.

Then it comes together for her.

"It was Sophie, wasn't it?"

She's kind of lost her appetite now. What else had she missed? What else hasn't Crane told her?

His eyes avoid her. "Yes."

"I knew you were pissed at me, but I wanted to know about this. Her grades matter to me as well."

She's hurt about it, but she's choosing not to let it interfere with their progress.

"I'm sorry, Abbie. I should have told you."

"Are there other things I don't know? Other events I missed that….Sophie were apart of?" Her skin is tight; her face is hot.

"Yes. There was an awards ceremony. I refused to notify you about it because I assumed you wouldn't show up. In addition, I was also very angry at you. Therefore, I invited Sophie. It was wrong, and I would like to apologize. I'm sorry for purposefully excluding you."

She remembers they're making progress, that they are apologizing and trying to move forward, except she doesn't really have words for this. She quickly wipes the tears that fall on her cheeks. Crane tries to comfort her; she won't let him. Her throat clears.

"I have to get back to work."

"Abbie—"

"Thank you for bring Mel and for bringing lunch. I'll see you this evening."

Crane begins to pack all their food, helps Mel with her jacket. He attempts to kiss Abbie on her cheek, though she moves her head for him to miss.

Abbie stoops down to Mel. "Alright, kiddo, be good. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, mommy." Mel hugs her.

She wants to cry her eyes out right then, but only squeezes her baby a little tighter. "I love you. See you in a bit."

"I love you, too."

Crane tries to speak to her again. She won't let him get his words out.

"I can't right now, Ichabod."

He only nods and quietly exits her office.

* * *

Abbie gets home at 9pm. Though Mel's already in bed, Abbie kisses her goodnight anyway before leaving her room. Crane's in theirs, sitting on their bed. He stands, rushes out his sorries.

She closes the door. "I don't know what to say, Crane. I knew you were punishing me, just not to this extent." Her anger gets out of check. "That was fucking low. I would never treat you like that."

"There are no amount of apologies I can make to atone for the mistakes I've made and for the hurt I've inflicted upon you."

"There isn't." And she's crying again, letting it all out.

He tries to comfort her, to hold her, only to be pushed away.

"You don't get to love me right now, Ichabod. No."

Those feelings come back: the stings from his comments about her mothering, finding out about Sophie, everything in between. She needs space right now and volunteers to sleep in the guest room for the night.

* * *

Sleep isn't around, so Abbie stares at the ceiling. It's midnight. Her mind's thinking and thinking. Thinking and thinking. Does she want to be in this marriage? Can they really move past this? They've just started the healing process and now there's more to heal from. More they have to fight through. This could have ended worse though. She could've cussed him out completely; he could've thrown her absences in her face. But they didn't. This was progress. A lot of progress since their last major argument. Her thoughts tumble every which way until a knock halts them. She sits up, says, "Come in."

It's Crane. Of course. He sits on the bed. Quiet.

"Is that all you've excluded me from?"

"Yes. That is all."

"This pisses me off." She inhales. "A lot." Exhales. "I don't think I'll ever get over this. You aren't forgiven yet. Not even close. Bu at least you told me. I'm not excusing it. Although, if we're going to move forward, we can at least be honest about things and work on it from there. That's the only way to go, the only way to get back to us."

He takes her hand, nods. "I agree."

She sighs, invites him under the covers with her. They lay still. Breathe. Listen to the night strike 1am. They fall asleep.


	12. Epilogue

It's six months later. They're happier. Much happier. After wading through the pains in their breastbone, the pains they caused each other, they're at peace. Abbie can't change what she did. Neither can Crane. They've sat in their feelings. Sent Mel to Jenny if they needed to war a bit. When they called ceasefire, they talked and listened. Cried and talked and listened some more. They slept apart if they needed space to think. And eventually, they found it in themselves to forgive all, to cleanse like fresh rivers and rain. Wounds would still be there, yes. They just wouldn't pick at them anymore, like crows nibbling over graying bones. It was sweet not to.

It was also sweet when they finally made love to each other again. Fully and thoroughly. With their hearts crossed and their kisses a flood. They filled themselves with the love they misplaced for a bit. And it makes them feel light. Free. Back to them.


End file.
